She lives in silence,
If you call it living,
Amidst the stillness of dolls.
Inside a shrine to a life – their life,
She stands before a window,
Before sounds,
The promise of conversation,
The body warmth
Of a friend’s embrace.
Words, unspoken, arise
Guide her through creeping nights.
She walks in a nightmare,
Unspeakable fear,
Beyond the window is another prison,
Justice may come too late.